<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Orison Triptych by RoseThornhill</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259011">Orison Triptych</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseThornhill/pseuds/RoseThornhill'>RoseThornhill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Post-Episode: s07e07 Orison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:29:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseThornhill/pseuds/RoseThornhill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of "Orison," Mulder takes Scully away while the police finish up their investigation of her apartment. But where does he take her? I have imagined three different scenarios - a hotel, her mother's house, and Mulder's apartment - and shown the aftermath of the traumatic events of "Orison"</p><p>Much love, as always, to my betas, Annie and Nicole</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fox Mulder/Dana Scully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hotel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The drive to the hotel was tense. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat?” Mulder asked gently.</p>
<p>“No thank you,” came the curt response.</p>
<p>“Because if anyone deserves some heart-clogging comfort food, it’s you,” Mulder continued. He realized he was rambling nervously, but couldn’t seem to stop himself.</p>
<p>“I’m not hungry,” Scully replied simply.</p>
<p>“Maybe some fried chicken? Or some pancakes? Pancakes are good comfort food. My mom made the best pancakes—”</p>
<p>“Just stop it, Mulder!” Scully snapped. </p>
<p>The rest of the ride was silent. Mulder had been properly chastised; Scully hunkered down in her seat, staring blankly out the window.</p>
<p>They arrived at the hotel. Mulder had barely put the car into park when Scully jumped out and bolted into the lobby. He rushed to catch up with her.</p>
<p>"Hi, I'd like a room, please. Single. Two nights." Ever pragmatic, Scully was planning on an extra day, just in case it took the police longer to release her apartment as a crime scene.</p>
<p>"I'd like a room, too, please," Mulder told the bored hotel clerk. Scully turned to Mulder, giving him an accusatory look.</p>
<p>"Why?"</p>
<p>"Well, it didn't seem appropriate to stay in the same room with you."</p>
<p>Scully rolled her eyes. "No. I mean, why do you want a hotel room?"</p>
<p>Mulder's mind went blank. <em> Because I'm worried about you </em> didn't seem like a reason she’d take  kindly to, but he literally couldn't come up with a less possessive reason, so he gave voice to his thought.</p>
<p>"I'm fine, Mulder," Scully answered brusquely. "The threat has been neutralized. I am not in danger." Her clinical tone, which sounded like she was reading directly from the FBI handbook, did nothing to assuage his fears.</p>
<p>"At least let me walk you to your room," he said, almost begging. Scully retrieved her key card and sighed. "Fine." She grabbed her bag and pushed past him.</p>
<hr/>
<p>All Scully wanted was a bath. A long, hot bath. Pfaster had tried - twice - to steal from her the pleasure she found in a hot bubble bath, and she was determined not to let that happen. At the door to her room, Scully thanked Mulder mechanically and slipped inside. She tried to ignore the disappointed look on his face. This wasn’t about him. This was about her.</p>
<p>All she wanted was a bath.</p>
<p>She tossed her duffel bag on the bed and turned on the TV, some old movie. Something to keep the silence away.</p>
<p>She kicked off her shoes and her sweatpants and grabbed her bag of toiletries. She could imagine the relief as the hot, bubbly water enveloped her. She froze when she got into the bathroom.</p>
<p>There was no bathtub. Shower only.</p>
<p>Scully stared at the offending appliance for a full minute. Dejected, she wandered back into the bedroom. The weight of the evening, which was supposed to be soaked away in the tub, hit her. She wilted onto the bed and sobbed.</p>
<hr/>
<p>At the door to Scully’s room, Mulder tried to tell her he was there if she needed him, all she had to do was call. But he didn’t get a chance. He got a perfunctory “thank you” from Scully before she disappeared into her room.</p>
<p>Mulder was worried about his partner. He knew how guarded she was and he was afraid of what might happen when the dam broke.</p>
<p>He went back downstairs to the front desk and got himself that room he had wanted earlier. The clerk looked a little hesitant to fulfill Mulder’s request, so he flashed his badge. “She is the victim of a crime and I am worried for her safety,” he said by way of explanation. It wasn’t really a lie; more like an embellishment of the truth, but it hit Mulder harder than he expected. Scully had never been the “victim” type; even when she was, technically, a victim. Suddenly he needed that room like he needed his next breath. He wasn’t sure if it was for her or for him, but he didn’t care. Luckily, the clerk seemed satisfied with this and got Mulder the requested room beside Scully’s.</p>
<p>Mulder went into his room and sat down on the bed. He turned on the television, keeping the volume low as he found a basketball game to watch. He couldn’t really concentrate on it, but it was a good distraction. It kept him from wringing his hands and pacing.</p>
<p>He heard a noise and muted the TV. What he originally took as the squeak of sneakers on the basketball court was not coming from the television. It was coming from the room next door. Scully was crying.</p>
<p>Mulder forced himself not to rush next door right away. He didn’t want to be some creepy stalker - Scully had already dealt with enough of those for one lifetime. But the crying didn’t stop. It grew louder, deeper.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Scully was embarrassed when she heard the light knock on the door. She had probably woken up the neighbors with her infantile sobbing. “Sorry,” she called out, wiping her eyes and hoping they would go away.</p>
<p>“Scully?” Mulder’s soft, soothing voice seeped into the room. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>She didn’t know. She honestly didn’t. But her walls had fallen, and now all she wanted was her best friend to tell her everything was okay.</p>
<p>Scully opened the door and saw her partner standing there. There was no judgement on his face; just concern. She collapsed into him and her sobs resumed. He held her, in much the same way he did six years ago, when Pfaster had come for her the first time.</p>
<p>They stood like that for a long time. Eventually, Scully’s sobs quieted and she pulled away, just enough so that Mulder could look at her. Her blue eyes shimmered with tears, and her cheeks were flushed and sticky. He took her face into his hands, tilted it up so he could look into her eyes. As soon as her eyes met his, she pulled away, shame quickly building her walls back up.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Mulder. I’m fine.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay not to be fine, Dana,” he offered. His use of her first name shook her. He did it rarely, and when he did, he was truly concerned for her.</p>
<p>“Is it okay just to ‘be’?”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Mulder tucked her into bed, then sat in a chair beside her. He reached out to stroke her hair, but she flinched, so he forced his hands to rest quietly in his lap.</p>
<p>“You think you can get some sleep?” he asked.</p>
<p>She nodded, suddenly exhausted. She could barely keep her eyes open.</p>
<p>“If you need me, just bang on the wall. I’ll be here faster than a sasquatch chasing an idiot with a video camera.” </p>
<p>She forced a weak smile. “Maybe in the morning we can get some pancakes?” </p>
<p>“Definitely,” he said softly as her eyelids drooped. She was asleep before Mulder could shut the door.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Maggie's House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hi mom. I didn’t wake you, did I? Everything is fine,” Scully said into her cell phone. “Well, not everything. There was some trouble at my apartment. Yes, I’m fine, I’m fine. But I can’t stay there tonight.” Scully sighed, and Mulder was sure Maggie was giving her daughter a hard time about the vagaries of her late-night request.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom, it’s fine,” she moaned. “I will tell you about it when I get there. No, I don’t need a ride; Mulder is driving me over.” Scully was getting agitated. “Look, mom, we’re almost there. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She hung up.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… how’s your mom?” Mulder asked lightly, trying to dispel the tension in the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s… being a mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you don’t want to crash at my place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Mulder, it’s fine. She knows I’m coming and….” Her voice trailed off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And… it’s times like this a girl wants her mom.” Scully’s voice sounded so tiny, so fragile. Mulder had never heard his partner like this before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the car ride was silent.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Maggie greeted them at the door. Scully practically fell into her mother’s arms, while Mulder waited sheepishly on the porch, trying to give the pair their space.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Scully finally peeled away, Maggie invited them both into the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened, dear?” Maggie asked in as gentle a tone as possible. Scully seemed to sag, weighed down by the events of the last few hours. In the presence of her mother, Scully’s steely, professional reserve evaporated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom… can I just go to bed? I’ve had a very, very long day….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Maggie said, her voice bubbling with concern. “The bedroom is all made up for you.” Scully gave her mother a goodnight kiss, and thanked Mulder for the ride before slipping off to the bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good to see you, Fox,” Maggie said warmly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too, Mrs. Scully. I wish it were under better circumstances.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come. I’ll make some tea and you can tell me what happened.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Maggie and Mulder sat at the kitchen table, tea in hand, and she pressed Mulder for the details her daughter wouldn’t – or couldn’t – share.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know if you remember the case we had a few years ago, Donald Pfaster?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maggie shrugged. “Dana never gives me the details.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Pfaster abducted Dana several years ago—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, is he the one who bathed his victims? He had an obsession with… hair and fingernails, right?” Mulder nodded. “Yes, Dana did tell me a little bit about that one. It shook her up pretty good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… he escaped.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maggie gasped. “Oh no. Did you two catch him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mulder nodded. “We did, but… not before he got to Dana again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maggie’s face grew stricken. “Oh my god… did he,” she seemed almost unable to voice the disturbing thought, “-did he touch her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a fight. Pfaster is dead,” Mulder said, leaving out the details, both for Maggie’s sake, and Scully’s sake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that’s why Dana can’t be home right now. It’s a crime scene,” Maggie concluded, putting the pieces together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in silence together, sipping their tea. There was a certain awkwardness between the two, but not with one another; it was the situation. Somehow, being two people experiencing the pain and uncertainty of someone they loved made the evening easier to deal with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shout interrupted the silence. Mulder and Maggie leapt to their feet, both recognizing the sound. They went down the hall, cracked open the door to Scully’s room, and found her in the throes of a nightmare: shouting, fighting an invisible enemy, getting tangled in the bedsheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maggie’s motherly instinct made her rush in, but Mulder pulled her back. “Let me. Please.” She sank back, and Mulder entered the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, and reached out to brush Scully’s hair off her forehead. A motion he had done to her hundreds of times before, he hoped she would subconsciously remember, and it would soothe her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t. Scully woke with a start, arms still flailing, landing hits on his chest and shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey. Easy, Scully. Easy,” Mulder said softly. It was him calling her “Scully” that snapped her back into wakefulness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mulder…?” She looked around, confused. “I’m at… my mom’s house?” The memories of the last few hours rushed back, and Scully could feel her resolve weaken.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mulder didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t used to his partner being so fragile. He desperately wanted to hold her, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable; he wanted to promise her that he was here for her, but he didn’t want to infantilize her. He cupped her face in his hand, an action he had done in the past with a certain level of success. She let it rest for a moment. He could feel her lower lip tremble, and she quickly pulled away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mulder. But I’m fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure--?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” she responded curtly, cutting him off. “I don’t need your condescension right now. It’s been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> long day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed away his hurt feelings. “I’ll get you some water.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the hall, Maggie was waiting expectantly. “She’s… her nerves are frayed,” Mulder offered generously before heading to the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he returned to the bedroom, he found Maggie sitting beside Scully on the bed, holding her as she wept. Mulder tiptoed in, set the glass of water on the bedside table, and glanced over at Maggie. She mouthed “thank you.” He nodded, understanding, and crept out of the bedroom, out of the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mother knows best.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Mulder's Apartment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The drive to Mulder’s apartment was quiet. Mulder didn’t push Scully, who seemed to be lost in her own world. She stared out the car window, her eyes unfocused and her body almost completely still. He would have thought she had fallen asleep had he not noticed her twitching fingers worrying themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they got upstairs, Scully was ready to go to sleep. She offered to take the couch, but Mulder refused. “I’m used to the couch. Hell, sometimes I still choose to sleep there instead of the bed,” he insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Thanks.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Let me put some clean sheets on the bed for you,” Mulder offered, suddenly remembering his manners. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it,” Scully interjected. “I just want to go to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She went to bed without further discussion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scully was glad to be at Mulder’s apartment. This place was almost as familiar to her as her own apartment, and that’s what she needed now: familiarity. She would never admit this to Mulder, but she had </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to sleep on the couch. She had sat there so many times, going over case files, watching terrible movies, sharing a beer with her best friend. She wanted to be wrapped up in his Navajo blanket. The bedroom wasn’t as familiar to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She crawled into the bed and was relieved to get a faint whiff of Mulder. His soap, his shampoo, his sweat. She pulled the blankets tight around her, breathing in Mulder’s scent, and mercifully fell asleep.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Mulder tried to sleep, but he was worried about Scully. He put on an old sci-fi movie – he thought it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Invasion of the Saucer Men</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he had the TV on mute, so he couldn’t really tell. Not that he was paying attention anyway. Scully had left the door to his bedroom open, so he kept peeking in on her. He noticed she had the sheets pulled up to her chin, and worried she was cold, so he tip-toed in and draped his Navajo blanket over her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not going to sleep tonight, anyway.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mulder couldn’t stop thinking about Donnie Pfaster, and couldn’t stop blaming himself. As soon as he heard Pfaster was back on the street, he should have put Scully into protective custody. No, he should have kept his eye on her, every minute. Mulder shook his head. That was ridiculous. Scully can look out for herself. She proved that this evening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mulder had to admit he was impressed by Scully tonight. Miss By-the-Book’s actions tonight were most certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>“by-the-book.” Scully hadn’t been in what the FBI handbook would have considered “imminent danger.” Mulder wasn’t lying when he told Scully that Pfaster “didn’t give her a choice.” Not only would Pfaster have killed again, there was no doubt in Mulder’s mind that he would have gone after Scully, again and again, until someone killed him. This thought made Mulder’s breath catch in his throat; made tears sting his eyes. He was proud that she acted from her gut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anxiety gripped him, and Mulder began to pace. It didn’t calm him much. He thought about going for a run, but feared leaving Scully. Instead, he checked on her again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was buried so deep in his blankets that he couldn’t see her. He crept in, and gently pulled back the blanket, just a little bit, to make sure she was there. She was. He admired her a moment, then noticed her tiny frame was shaking. She was crying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Scully?” he whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat up sharply. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her cheeks were stained with tears. He wasn’t sure if she had been awake or asleep. It didn’t matter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t need to say anything. Using that silent communication that only the two of them had, he sat down beside her on the bed. She threw her arms around him and sobbed unabashedly into his shoulder. He said nothing, just held her and let her cry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few minutes, her tears subsided and she lifted her head. Afraid he would get up, she linked her arms around his, clutching tightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You never answered me," she said softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scully took a deep breath. "What if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> God that made me pull the trigger? What if... what if...."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew what she was asking: what if she was "evil" enough to pull the trigger, in what virtually any court of law would have deemed murder. Mulder sighed and thought carefully about the answer. He never understood how his partner could be so skeptical about everything else, yet believe so completely in the existence of a god.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's say this was the case of a woman who was being abused by her husband. He beat her mercilessly day in, day out. The woman finally has the strength to do something about it. In the middle of a beating, the husband stops, let's say to answer the phone. The beating has stopped, but the woman knows as soon as he is done with the phone call, it will resume. She grabs a nearby knife and plunges it into his back, before he can turn around and resume beating her. Would you say that she was 'evil' for 'murdering' her husband?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, of course not. I would say that she was brave for finally having the courage to stand up for herself, and neutralizing an imminent threat." Scully was back to her clinical self. Mulder nodded in agreement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was quiet for a minute and let the words sink in. She wasn’t evil. Everything clicked into place for her. She realized that it wasn’t that she thought herself evil; she was worried Mulder would think she was evil. But he didn’t think she was evil. He thought she was brave. Relief swept through Scully and she sank back against the pillows. Still unwilling to let go of Mulder, her hands found their way to his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were quiet for a few minutes. “Will you stay with me tonight? In the bed? I don’t want to be alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mulder was relieved. “Of course,” he said, and crawled into bed next to her. She wriggled back against him and he cradled her. She sank into his strong arms and could feel herself starting to relax for the first time all day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she murmured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For not thinking I’m evil.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never,” he whispered into her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I could never think you are evil.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two drifted off into dreamless sleep in each other’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>